


Into Your Heart I'll Beat Again

by kittykatxo



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, High School, M/M, Shy Frank Iero
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-15 18:37:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1315102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykatxo/pseuds/kittykatxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He may seem like an average boy, but there was something very special about this boy; his mind. It was filled with beauty, curiosity, and love. The quiet, outspoken boy didn't fit in with the crowd much; they saw him as a loner. But the high school's bad boy was able to see this boy's beautiful mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunrises

Purple. That was the first thing he saw. Not just any purple, but the pretty, pale kind. It started to spread all over the once pitch black sky. He sat on the windowsill, the feeling of warm joy filling his small body. The boy loved sunrises. He loved the beautiful colors that filled the black blanket, creating a new day for everyone. He would get up every morning before the fire ball would rise above the horizon, so that he could enjoy the beauty of it. It didn't matter how early it was, he enjoyed the little things in life. Especially this one.

Pink. He could see the next color mix in with the purple and a small smile formed on his full lips. He could feel his heart swell from the beauty that was in front of his eyes. As he waited for more colors to show themselves, his eyes began to wander. The neighborhood was still; almost like no one was living there. He could hear car engines in the distance, but that's it. His neighborhood was small, and so were the homes, but he didn't mind it. It was the perfect home for himself and his mother, since his dad left them. Then, out the corner of his eye, he saw movement. A man that lived across the street was racing out the door, fixing his tie, while carrying a briefcase. The boy saw the heavy bags underneath the man's tired eyes, and he wondered if that's what it's like to be older. No sleep, and racing to work early in the morning. Repeating the same thing each and everyday. The thought made him sad; there was more to life than just the same, boring routines that people put themselves in. At least he hoped so. He watched the man hop into his car and race down the street; the engine crying until he couldn't hear it anymore.

Orange. Now all the colors were mixing themselves together, creating one beautiful painting. It was his magnificent sky and he couldn't take his eyes off the masterpiece in front of him. The fire ball was almost lighting up the whole sky and it made the boy smile even bigger. While his masterpiece was making it's final touches, his small hand touched the chilled glass. He couldn't wait to be outside, feeling the sun kiss his skin with the cold air wrapped around him. His hand was starting to get numb from the icy glass when he saw two figures between his fingers. Two boys. He assumed that they were walking to school, which he should be doing. The first one was thin, very thin and lanky. His face looked young, but it was hard tell behind the big glasses he was wearing. His backpack must've been heavy because it looked like it was weighing him down, causing him to have a fowl look on his face. As they continued to walk, the boy continued to study them. The other one was taller, and black hair hung in his face, so he couldn't see it, but for some reason he looked older than the first boy. He had much ease when he walked; like he didn't have a care in the world. For some reason, he looked very familiar. The boy watched the two out his window until they disappeared down the street.

He didn't realize that his masterpiece was finished, and the sky was bright and blue now. He sat up from the window and walked to his full sized mirror, the floor crying underneath him when he did. He stared at himself in the mirror; for a sixteen year old, he really did look like he was ten. The boy had a very full baby face, and bright, big eyes. His eyes might've been the most noticeable thing about his appearance. His eyes weren't even a color out of a crayon box. Not the basic, brown, blue, green. No, they were golden, with crushed hazel filling in the corners of his big eyes. His brown hair fell into his face, covering one magnificent eye. His body was even small too. He was five foot nothing, and was thinner than he should be. His clothes never clung to his body, but he didn't mind. He loved wearing enormous jackets that kept him warm from the New Jersey cold. He felt a tingle in his throat and a heavy cough followed after.

“Frank?” 

He heard his mom's strong accent come from outside his room. She knocked on the door, and then opened it slowly. Frank thought his mother was a beautiful woman. She was young, but from the long work days and nights, it made her look a lot older. She had Frank when she was a teenager herself, and his father didn't stay after he was born. She had to raise him herself, but Frank was always there to help when he got older. He could tell the she was tired from her baby blue eyes, but she hid it well with her warm smile.

“We have to leave in a few minutes,” She smiled at him, “and please put another sweater on, it's colder today.” His mother always worried about him, but instead of protesting, he grabbed another sweater, that was too big for him, and pulled it on. She laughed, kissed his forehead, and told him to wait in the car. While she watched him slide in their little, beat up car, she walked into her bedroom and shut the door quickly. She opened her closet and pushed clothes aside. She found the very familiar bottle that she hid there the day before. She took a few sips of it, finishing the bottle up. She hid it back in her closet, covering up her deep secrets, and grabbed her belongings. She saw her son curled up in the car with his knees to his chin and his arms wrapped around them, obviously cold.

Frank didn't mind the cold; he actually kind of loved it. But he knew his mother, she would always try to keep him safe. He watched as she got into the car and turned the heat on immediately, “I don't want you to get even sicker with that cough of yours.” He nodded, and knew she was right. He had been fighting a cough for a couple weeks now, and it had just gotten worse over time. His mother noticed and decided to take him to see a doctor, since it wasn't getting any better. So, here he was, missing a day of school, and going to an appointment that he didn't really want to go to, but knew he wouldn't get better if he didn't.

The doctor wasn't too far, but he wasn't a big talker, so Frank knew the car ride would be silent. He watched as his mom messed with the radio; it wasn't very good, so most of it was just static. Frank looked out the window at trees that were running past him. He felt another tingle in his throat again, and the start of another coughing attack had begun. He felt his mom's hand on his back, rubbing it softly, and the small gesture made him feel so much better. When they finally arrived, he finally calmed down and was ready to get this over with.

His mother went to sign him in and fill out paperwork, while he sat in the chair, with his knees up to his chin again. Frank watched everything around him; he didn't really like this place. It was dull and eery. The people around him were sick or waiting for their loved ones to come out from their appointment. His mother sat next to him and she held his had, squeezing it softly. He looked up at her and gave her a small smile, which she returned. He rested his head on her shoulder, and could feel his eyes start to get heavy and he closed them slowly.

“Frank Iero?” Frank's head jolted up and he saw a young lady in pink scrubs. Her face was friendly, and her long hair was twisted back in a bun, “You ready, honey?” She smiled at him and he stood up, his mother following behind. The nurse weighed him, scowling at how thin he was, and then laughing when she measured him, saying that he was too cute. They ended up in a room, where the nurse said it would be a few minutes until the doctor came in. When she left, Frank decided to sit on the chair that swirls around. He started twisting and turning it, until he was going around pretty fast. A laugh escaped his lips and he closed his eyes; he felt like he was floating. He heard his mother laughing at his childish behavior, and she continued to read a pamphlet about diabetes. He kept twirling around, making his child like heart swell with happiness.  


The little things.

“Excuse me?” Frank was frightened by the unfamiliar voice and ended up tripping over his own feet and fell right on his butt. He could feel heat rush to his full cheeks and he looked up to see a very professional woman standing there, with an amused smile on his face. She had a stern face, but he could see kindness behind it too. 

“Frank, are you okay?” He heard his mother voice, but there was also amusement there too. He stuttered out that he was fine, and sat on the bed that was in the room. The doctor who startled Frank asked him a lot of questions about his cough. When it started, has it gotten worse, how long the coughing attacks last, is anything else bothering him. The endless questions made his head spin. She checked his chest, throat, and ears. And lastly, the heart.

“Well Frank,” she looked at him with a genuine smile, while taking off her stethoscope, “Everything looks fine. It just seems to be mild strep throat, I will give you a prescription to take, but everything is fine!” He heard his mother sigh with relief, and he playfully rolled his eyes at her. They left the clinic quickly, and Frank's mother dropped him off at home. He knew it must've been hard for her to get some time off work to take him to a doctor. He quickly kissed her cheek and they said their I love yous, and he went back in the quiet house.

Frank decided to look out the window some more and saw a figure walking outside. It was too early for school to be out. He then noticed it was the boy from earlier this morning. There was only one boy this time; the one with the black hair. He wondered where the other one was, but continued to stare at the black haired boy. Frank could see his face more clearly now; he was older, definitely older than Frank. His walk was more nonchalant than it was before. He watched everything about this boy, mesmerized by him. He watched his hands; how they moved around all the time. He was either pushing the hair out of his face, playing with the zipper of his jacket, or rubbing them together to keep warm. He watched everything about him and then, the black haired boy looked through the window and locked eyes with Frank. 

Frank's first instinct was to duck, which is what he did. He hid and felt heat rise to his face for the second time that day. He loved people watching, but he didn't like getting caught. He thought it was embarrassing, so he continued to hide. Minutes passed and he looked up and out the window again. He was gone, and Frank was grateful. 

As the day went on, Frank didn't do much. He finally saw the sun start to set and he closed his window quickly. He liked sunrises, but he hated sunsets. He didn't like when the day ended. It could be anyone's last day. Frank liked being able to wake up with the sunrise, knowing that a new day was there to welcome him. He wanted to go to sleep so he could see his masterpiece again tomorrow morning. He crawled into his bed, and felt the cool sheets touch his body. The feeling made his lips twitch into a big smile.

The little things.


	2. Incomplete

“Fuck.”

Gerard hissed, while he tried to light his cigarette for the fifth time. The harsh wind was making it hard for him to fill his lungs with the addicting stick. He didn't care much for the cold; he actually hated it. Especially when the wind became so strong to prevent him from sneaking out of class to smoke. He was leaning up against the familiar brick wall that should have the shape of his back imprinted on it. This was his sacred place, where he would come to think, relax, and escape when everything was suffocating him. He hated school; and he made it known to everyone. He talked back to the teachers, he had been suspended more than once, and would skip almost all his classes. Hell, he was nineteen and still a senior in high school. He didn't care though; grades, lectures, and diplomas meant nothing to him.

He finally was able to cuff his hand around the cigarette long enough to light it. He brought it up to his red, chapped lips and breathed in the smoky toxins. He closed his eyes and felt the nicotine fill up his lungs, and awaken his senses. He didn't understand how something so bad could make him feel so good. His body felt warm now, and his anxious jitters eased up. He opened his eyes and looked out at the field of decaying green. He could see the trees and grass dying from the winter that was creeping in. That made him think about death. Gerard thought about death a lot; not that he was depressed, he just knew it was inevitable. Everyone was going to die, it is what it is, and he didn't know why people tried to ignore it or hide from it.

“I knew I would find you here.” Gerard heard the familiar voice come from around the brick corner. Gerard didn't have many friends; he was well liked, of course, but he would never bond long enough with anyone. Ray, though, he was the only person Gerard would consider a true friend. He decided this when they both ended up going to a party together and crashing it because of how wasted they got. Ray wasn't like Gerard though; he knew when to have a good time, but he was also very dedicated to his school work, and was planning on going to college. They never had personal, deep conversations, Gerard wouldn't let it happen, even when Ray tried. So, Ray was clueless about what Gerard wanted to do with his life. If anything.

Gerard never smiled, so when Ray saw his friend create little creases around the side of his mouth, he knew that Gerard was in a pretty good mood. Ray sat down on the cold concrete, feeling it go through his jeans and right to his skin. They didn't talk, and Gerard liked that. Gerard passed his cigarette over to Ray, and they shared it. As Ray was exhaling the smoke, he coughed and cleared his throat, “So, there's this party going on tonight. And, I didn't know if you wanted to go or not, so I just thought that I should mention it to you.” Gerard took the cigarette back from him; he liked parties. He loved the loud music, getting shit faced, and escaping from everything.

“If you wanted me to be your date Ray, you could've just said so,” Ray smiled and pushed Gerard's shoulder. He was glad that Gerard was coming. They always had a good time together whenever they hung out. Gerard threw the cigarette on the ground and stomped on it. He stretched out his limbs, and let his messy, black hair fall into his face, “I'm not going to stay for Spanish, wanna come over?” Ray knew that Gerard always skipped, and he always asked Ray to accompany him.

“Nah,” Ray said, declining his offer once again, “but I'll come over to your house, and we'll drive together to the party tonight.” Gerard shrugged and nodded and started walking off towards the school gate. The school would always lecture the students about how wrong it is to skip, but would always leave the front gate to the school unlocked. Gerard snickered at the idiots that he had to deal with everyday. On his walk home, he could tell that it was getting colder. The wind was harsher, making his cheeks burn red. He wrapped his black jacket tighter around himself, and ran his fingers through his dirty hair. He looked up at the streets ahead of him, and it was just the same old, boring neighborhood that he was so used to.  
He ran through the front door when he saw his blue, picturesque house. The warmth in the house was so inviting and he was glad to be home. He knew his parents were going to be home soon, but he didn't care about getting in trouble; he would just watch their lips move vigorously as they yelled at him, but his mind was always somewhere else. He pushed opened the basement door and went down stairs to his black room. His room was messy, just like his life. There were clothes all over the floor that he walked on, art supplies spread all over his desk with unfinished pictures. There were posters on his wall that were falling down or ripped off. And it was dark, and he loved it that way. 

He fell onto his bed, and was out within minutes.

He woke up to a loud banging on his door. It made his head start to pound, but he rolled out of his bed and walked slowly over to the door. When he opened it, a bright light from upstairs shined in his eyes, and made him squint. He saw his tall, kid brother standing there, “Where were you, Gerard? I was waiting for you after school for forty minutes and you never showed up. I was freezing, I could've died!” His brother looked annoyed, but Gerard didn't care. He just wanted that damn light to be turned off, so he could see clearly again.

“God, Mikey. Can you chill the fuck out,” He passed by his brother, to go up the stairs to the kitchen. He could hear his stomach yelling at him. He heard Mikey's steps behind him, and he groaned to himself. He wished that his brother would just leave him alone.

“You skipped again, didn't you?” Gerard didn't answer. He just grabbed a bowl, and took the ice cream out of the freezer, “Dad is going to kill you, you know that, right?” Gerard shrugged. He just didn't care, he did what he wanted, and didn't care how it would affect him or anyone else around him. He sat at the table and ate his ice cream in silence, while he brother leaned against the counter and stared at him. Mikey would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about his brother. Gerard had always been standoffish, but it was getting worse. The two of them used to be so close, and they just kept drifting apart everyday. He missed Gerard; he missed laughing with him, watching crappy, gory movies together, playing video games, and trading CDs with each other. Mikey knew nothing about Gerard anymore; he would just stay down in the basement for hours. Sometimes Mikey would walk by the door and put his ear against it, just to make sure that Gerard was okay, but he would never hear anything.

Mikey and Gerard both heard the front door open. Mikey's heart sunk, while Gerard just sat there, not looking up from his ice cream. Mikey saw his mother enter the kitchen. She gave him a small smile, and kissed him on the forehead. She stared straight ahead at her older son, and didn't know what to do. She walked forward and sat down across from him, “Gerard,” He didn't look up, “I got another phone call from school today. They said you skipped class again, “ Silence. “They said that if you keep doing this, you're going to be left back again.” Gerard didn't budge. He didn't care about any of it; even if he was going to be the only twenty year old senior in school. He finished his ice cream, ignoring his mom and brother, and went back down to the basement. Mikey and his mom looked at each other, not knowing what to do.

Gerard checked his phone and saw that Ray sent him a message; he would be coming over soon. Gerard picked up some random clothes off the floor and put on an even bigger jacket than the one he was wearing earlier. He couldn't wait to get out of this house; he was sick of everyone pestering him and telling him what to do. He knew exactly what he wanted to do: absolutely nothing. He sat on his bed until he got a message from Ray that said he was there. Gerard ran up the stairs, but was blocked by his mother.

“Where are you going?” Gerard avoided eye contact with her and he mumbled that he was going out, “You're not going anywhere, Gerard.”

“Watch me.” He walked right passed her and slammed the door. Deep down, he hated that. He didn't like fighting with his mom, and he swore he saw the hurt in her eyes, but he just didn't let himself care about any of that. If he cared, he would feel way too much, and he would just rather not deal with it. When he was outside, he was met with the nasty cold again, and he saw Ray's beat up car parked in the driveway. The heater never worked in his car, so Gerard knew that it was going to be a dreadful drive. Ray watched as Gerard got in the car. He noticed that he looked paler than usual, and there was a scowl on his face. He wanted to ask Gerard if everything was okay, but he knew he wouldn't get an answer.

“Ready to get fucked up?” Ray thought that would make Gerard feel better, and when he saw the smile on his face, he was glad he said it. They drove with a CD of Metallica playing, and it made Gerard feel a lot better. There was a faint smell of smoke and he cursed himself for smoking his last cigarette at school earlier. The drive wasn't very long, and when Gerard looked up again, he saw that they were parked outside a very large house. He could hear the music from outside, and he saw a lot of people crammed in the house. 

They both walked in, and Gerard was met with the stench of alcohol and sweat. He saw Ray chatting with people, and there were people trying to be friendly with Gerard, but he continued to ignore them and went to find the drinks. He was thrilled when he found them, and he began to chug.

One, two, three, four, five-five, or six?

He couldn't remember how many drinks he had when he started feeling the alcohol take over his mind. Everything was hazy; he would move his head and nothing was clear. It felt good though; he didn't want to be in control anymore. He saw Ray off in the corner talking to some of his other friends that Gerard didn't know. Gerard decided to stumble over to the couch and sit down. And that's when he felt it; someone was up against him, clinging onto his arm, and whispering stuff in his ear that he couldn't quite make out. She was blonde, he saw the color of her hair, but not her face. 

She took his hand and pulled him off the couch. He let her pull them into the secluded room towards the back of the house. When she closed the door, he felt her all over him. She was soft; she felt like silk and it was very inviting to him. Her teeth and lips were all over his neck, and when he leaned into her hair, she smelt like warm honey. Within minutes, they were laying on the bed, breathing heavy. Gerard was used to having sex at parties; hell, he did it quite often, but it never meant anything to him.

He sat on the bed, his head still buzzing, while she laid on the bed sleeping. He was staring at nothing, and the room was almost pitch black, but the moon's shine was creeping in from the window. And for a brief second, he let himself feel all of his emotions that he was trying to bury deep inside himself.

He felt incomplete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a very long time. I'm so sorry! I'll try to update a lot sooner. I hope you all enjoy! xo


	3. Tongue-Tied

Frank was already awake, sitting by his window, when his mother knocked on his door. He was so hypnotized by his beautiful sky that he completely lost track of time. He slowly walked over to his closest, grabbing a jacket that was too big for him, and opened the door to see his mom smiling at him. She kissed his forehead, and handed him some breakfast to go; he already knew he wouldn't be eating it. His mother wished him a good day, and he was already stepping outside to feel the icy air. He breathed in, while closing his eyes. He loved the smell of the winter coming, he loved the chill wind burning his cheeks, and he loved the colors in the sky. He threw his backpack over his shoulders, and it began to weigh him down. He walked slowly to his bus stop, and tried to enjoy the cold air before he was taken to school.

Frank wasn't very fond of school; sure, he loved to learn, but he didn't like to be forced to learn about material that he would never use in his life. Nevertheless, he still did well in school, and all his teachers adored him. He was mostly invisible there, but there were a few kids that would pick on him because he was “different”. Frank didn't understand what that meant; why were people described as different or normal? But he kept to himself as much as he could, and didn't bother anyone. 

When he got to the bus stop, he saw that he was really running late because there were already a bunch of people there. He stood away from everyone else, and scanned the crowd. He saw the familiar, boring faces that he went to school with, but there was one person that caught his eye. It was one of the boys that he saw walking the other day through his window; the one with the super cool, big glasses that were falling off his face. Frank didn't know why he didn't notice him here before; maybe he was just too distracted in his own thoughts to ever really look at him. He watched the awkwardly tall, lanky boy continue to push his glasses back up, but they still would fall down his nose and he would scowl every single time. It made Frank smile.

Frank heard the bus pull up to the side of the street, and he watched everyone scatter to get a good seat. He took his time and waited in line until he was finally on the warm bus. His eyes scanned over the sea of people and found a spot that was right next to the boy he was observing outside. Frank sat down next to him, and pulled his knees up to his chest. The boy he was sitting next to didn't say a word, he just threw Frank a small smile and continued to look out the window. Frank decided to take this time to close his eyes, and just think about his life. When he did think about it, he felt content. He doesn't have a horrible life at all; he has his mom and their home, and that's all he needs. 

Frank knew he didn't fit into a certain crowd of people; he never did, and he noticed it even when he was younger. Instead of playing football or ride bikes with the boys in his neighborhood, he would rather stay in his room to draw, or read comics, or sit outside his window and enjoy the beauty that's around him. Everyone thought he was weird, but it's what made him happy, and if it made him happy, why would that be weird? His life wasn't miserable, it was just the way he liked it.

“You're in my seat,” Frank was yanked out of his scattered thoughts, and he looked up, his doe eyes wide, to see who was speaking to him. Hardly anyone ever talked to him, so he was caught off guard when he heard a raspy voice say something. Frank was met with deep hazel eyes, that had no emotion in them at all. His hair was a black, tangled mess that had an anxious hand running through it. His chapped lips were formed into a frown, and he was leaning against the seat that was in front of Frank's. He recognized who it was instantly.

Frank's mouth dropped open, about to speak, but the words didn't come out, “You're in my seat,” He repeated, but more stern this time, obviously not amused by Frank's awkwardness. Frank didn't know what else to do, so he gathered his backpack, and stood up.

“Oh my God, just find another seat!” Frank was surprised when he heard the boy next to him speak. Frank looked over, and saw his annoyed expression, “It's not like you own the bus. Stop being such a baby.”

Frank looked over at the guy with the black mop of hair, and could tell he wasn't moving, and obviously wanted his seat, “It's okay. I'll just find another seat. Sorry.” Frank muttered under his breath and moved out of the way. He brushed passed the guy, who was a lot taller than him, and the last thing Frank wanted to do was start a fight with an older guy that could squish him like a bug, easily. Frank got yelled at by the bus driver for not finding a seat fast enough, and he ended up sitting in the front of the bus next to a girl that kept falling asleep and was drooling everywhere. Frank decided that he would just walk to school from now on.

When Frank got to school, he knew what was going to happen because he did it every single day; go to his locker, go to the same boring classes everyday, do all his work, lunch, bump into people awkwardly, and then get on the bus to go home. He didn't mind though; he liked knowing what would happen everyday. 

By the end of the school day, Frank was getting tired and his cough was starting to get worse. He prayed that last period would go by fast, but it never did. It was art class; he loved art, but he wasn't very good at it. He entered the room, and Frank could smell the aroma of paint all around him. He sat at his usually table by himself and watched all the other students fill the classroom. All he wanted to do was lay his head against the cool table, but he hated not paying attention in class; he thought it was rude. 

The teacher was starting to get into his lecture, and then there was a small creak towards the door and everyone turned to look. Frank was surprised to see the lanky kid walk through it. He told the teacher that he got switched into this class. He looked up and smiled when he saw Frank and he made his way over to the empty table.

“Anyone sitting here?” The tall kid smiled a big, goofy smile and Frank found it very comforting. Frank shook his head shyly. No one everyone wanted to sit with him, or even try to talk to him. He wasn't used to having social encounters with anyone. The whole class stared at the two of them sitting alone at the front of the classroom. The teacher began his lecture again, and then let the students start their assignments. Frank tried to draw his beautiful sky, but it turned out looking like a bloody massacre. 

“That's awesome!” The kid looked over at Frank's drawing, and Frank couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or if he really meant it. Frank just gave him a small smile and continued doing his work in silence. He listened to the rest of the students talk about what they're doing this weekend, what parties they are going on, what drinks they should bring, and all the rumors about everyone hooking up together. Frank just wasn't interested in that kind of stuff, but he had to hear all the chatter from everyone's mouth. He didn't know what it was like to have friends or conversations with anyone, really. He preferred silence; it was calming to him. And whenever he did talk to someone, he would just become awkward and tongue tied. But he realized that the new presence next to him liked to talk... a lot.

“Hey, I'm really sorry about what happened on the bus this morning. You can sit with me any time, don't let him bother you,” Frank's face became hot when he thought about earlier this morning. He didn't want to cause any trouble with the taller guy; he was terrifying to Frank, “He's just an ass.” 

Frank muttered a small okay to the boy with the glasses, “Oh! I'm Mikey, by the way,” Mikey laughed, which caused his glasses to slide down his nose, “What's your name?”

Frank didn't know how to do this; he never talked to anyone his age. He didn't know how to have conversations, make eye contact. He felt awkward and shy, “Frank,” he whispered the small word and continued to hide his face in his beautiful sky. That's where everything calmed him.

Mikey never met anyone like Frank; he was they shyest person he's ever encountered, and he wanted to know more about this interesting, small boy sitting beside him. He grew a big smile when he thought of a brilliant idea, “So, if you're not doing anything tonight, would you like to hang out at my house? I know we don't know each other well, but you seem cool, and we can play videos and watch scary movies, it'll be awesome!” Mikey gets really excited about video games, he just can't help it. And by Frank's shocked expression, Mikey knew this was probably the first time anyone invited Frank to do anything.

Frank's mouth almost hit the table. This never happened to him before; most people would ignore him or just look at him weird. No one ever invited him to hang out, and no one every called him cool. Frank was fine with just his own company, his beautiful sky, his kind thoughts, and his mother. He never thought about hanging out or even having friends. He let his brown hair fall into his face and cover one of his magical eyes. He didn't know what to say to Mikey; he had never done this before. There was a part of him that wanted to say no; he liked being in his little bubble alone, and he was scared to hang out with someone; he didn't know how to. And the other part of him didn't want to be rude; he thought it was kind of Mikey to invite him over, no one ever gave him a chance.

“Okay... sure. That- that would be great. Thanks- thank you,” Before he knew it, he said yes and the bell rang. Mikey had a big, goofy smile on his face. He ripped a piece of paper out of his journal and scribbled something down and handed it to Frank, “Here you go! You can come over whenever!” Mikey's voice was loud and filled with excitement, he loved making new friends, and Frank was different; he liked that about him, “I'll see you on the bus!” 

Frank didn't know what just happened; his hands were shaking nervously as he grabbed his belongings and walked out. All the students were running out of the classrooms like they were being chased, it was Friday after all. Frank was trampled, pushed, and invisible because of his small size. He weaved his way through the maze of people. He was scared of what was going to happened at Mikey's house; he didn't know how to have friends, or even talk.

He found his bus, and saw Mikey sitting alone. He was scared of sitting there, but Mikey assured him that no one was going to kick him out, and Frank didn't see the older guy again. 

Frank's mother was home when he got there. It surprised him because she usually worked long hours. He quickly ran to his room and put everything away neatly. He walked back to the living room and saw his mom sitting on the couch looking through bills, it made his heart sink. He wished he could help his mom out more, he knew she was struggling.

“Mom?” She looked up when she heard the small voice, and saw her small son standing there anxiously. She noticed his clothes looked too big, and she wished she could get him to eat more. She could tell something was up, so she took her glasses off and turned to face him, “Could, um, could you drive me to someone's house? He- Mikey, he invited me to hang out.” Her blue eyes widened. She knew that Frank had a hard meeting people, so she was surprised by this.

“Sure, honey. If that's what you want. But I would like to meet his mother, just to make sure.” Frank curled his lips and smiled. He liked that his mother worried about him because he knew that she cared. He sat down next to her and hugged her tight. 

Frank was in the car, with the static radio filling his ears. He was sitting outside a blue house that looked like it would be on a post card. He noticed it was nicer than most of the houses in Jersey, but that didn't make him feel more comfortable at all. Frank felt the familiar prickling in his throat, and a huge bursts of coughing followed after. He grabbed onto the door handle to steady his shaking body. His mother started rubbing his back; she knew that his cough was getting worse, but she had to save the money to buy his prescription. She hated that she was putting him through this. 

When the coughing started to stop, he could feel his nerves start to form in the pit of his stomach; he hated the feeling. It felt like he was going to throw up everything in his stomach, which wasn't much. His mother waited until he was ready, and when he unbuckled the seatbelt, he felt like he was making a horrible mistake. He was in front of the white door, and heard the doorbell ring through the house. Frank heard noises behind the door and was met with Mikey's friendly face. Frank noticed that there was a short woman behind Mikey; she had crazy blonde hair, but a kind smile that made Frank feel better. Mikey invited Frank in, while the two mothers talked by the door. The house was warm, and it smelt like good food, but there was a faint smell of smoke coming somewhere, but Frank liked it. Mikey pulled Frank to the living room where everything was set up. Mikey had junk food and candy out for them and various video games to play. Frank didn't want to say anything, but he never played a video game before. He was more into dreaming, and being stuck in his own thoughts.

“Mom's making us dinner too!” Mikey seemed excited, he didn't have many friends either, and since Gerard had been spiraling out of control, he was lonely most of the time. He watched as Frank stood awkwardly; he couldn't believe that Frank was sixteen. He was so small for his age, and had the face of a child's. He realized that Frank wasn't going to sit until he told him to; Mikey thought Frank was way too polite for his age. 

Mikey's mom was back in the room, and Frank wondered if his mom left already. He missed her; he wasn't used to so many new people. Mikey's mother came over to Frank, “It's nice to meet you Frank, I'm Donna.” Frank smiled politely at her, and hide his face behind his hair, “You're just too cute!” Mikey groaned and told his mom to stop embarrassing him. 

“You boys have fun, I'll let you know when dinner is ready!” Mikey sat on the couch next to Frank, and he started talking nonstop about everything. Frank knew he should be listening to what Mikey was saying, but he was too busy looking around the house. It was cozy; warm colors filled the walls, there were knickknacks all over the place, and there was a hallway leading off somewhere else. He liked it, but it was also something he wasn't used to. He sat quietly next to Mikey, while he set a game up. He gave Frank a controller, and Mikey suddenly realized he liked playing with Frank; he would win every game. Frank started to get better after awhile, and he even cracked a couple of smiles when Mikey got really into the game.

Mikey's mom announced dinner was ready, and Frank decided it would be a good time to go to the bathroom to give himself some air. When he asked Mikey where the bathroom was, Mikey was too busy stuffing his mouth with food to actually hear where it was. So, Frank decided to find it himself. He passed by the first door and opened it quietly. It was dark, so he stepped in to search for the light, but he tripped over his feet and fell down a couple of steps into the darkness.

“What the fuck!” Frank heard a familiar raspy voice scream at him. The smoke that he smelt earlier was coming from this room and was filling his senses. He was still in the dark and heard someone rustling around. He let out a whimper of pain; he must've twisted his ankle when he tripped. Frank tried to stand up as quickly as he could, and when he did, the lights came on.

This definitely was not the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! xo


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